Losing weight, finding me, healthy, easy recipes

Best crockpot potatoes ever

May 31, 2012

Plug, plug, plug. This is what I do every day. Work at turning eating in a healthy way into a way of life. A lifestyle even. Keep track of my calories. Measure food with scales, cups and spoons. Exercise. Exercise more. Drink quarts and quarts of water. Sleep.

On the plus side my flowers look as good as they’ve ever looked in the almost 23 years we’ve lived up here on our hilltop. On the minus, I’m not much fun, collapsing into my recliner before it gets dark and trudging to bed not long after that!  Today I did my 15 minutes worth of yoga,  rode my newly tuned-up bike for 45, then weeded and clipped irises for two hours. Whew!

This week I’ve also weeded around the rhubarb and realize we probably have some of those lovely red stalks out there now, ready to eat. I’ve picked huge heads of broccoli and found them full of small jade-colored worms that have crawled in to spin their cocoons (a saltwater soak disposes of them most efficiently). I’ve picked lettuce that’s somehow stayed green and crispy in this summer heat (90s today), cleaned up around our two apple trees, pruned 3 gigantic mock orange bushes, several shaggy harlequin glorybower and forsythia bushes. I’ve made an impatiens bed for coral and salmon-colored blossoms and planted 14 basil babies ($2 at Walmart) in the herb bed. I am gardening woman, hear me moan.

The upside here is I lunched on our neighbor Anne Cain’s amazing goat cheese terrine with pesto, sun-dried tomatoes and green olives spread on good garlic crackers. Even with a lime fruit bar (70 calories) for dessert, I still haven’t eaten as many calories as I’ve burned. (Remember, I track calories in and calories out for free on livestrong.com.)

I think I decided (!) yesterday that I’d like to lose 30 more pounds and that it will probably take at least a year, but that’s OK. I don’t want to give up all things tasty, just plan to continue moderating how much I eat. This morning’s breakfast, for instance: One serving of a 277-calorie per serving blackberry cobbler with 1/2 cup of plain Greek yogurt (another 70 calories).

With these potatoes, which were devoured before I remembered to take their picture, I trimmed fat from the recipe (original recipe called for 1 pound bacon, among other mind-boggling extravagances) and ate no more than 1/2 cup per meal, much as I wanted to devour the entire slow cooker-full!

Best crockpot potatoes ever

3 pounds potatoes, peeled and cut into slices, cooked in gently boiling water until done, about 15 minutes

2 ounces Cheddar cheese

3 ounces Parmesan cheese

5 ounces reduced-fat ricotta cheese

5 slices bacon, cooked, drained and crumbled

Salt and pepper to taste

Mix 3 cheeses. Layer in slow cooker with potatoes and bacon crumbles. Cook on low for 3 to 4 hours and try not to eat the whole thing

 

Category:

Weight loss, good food, Rural life, Simple foods

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Holy hunger

May 22, 2012

On April 17 my friend Dannye lent me a book that’s changed my life. One month and 4 days may not seem like a long time, but it’s a long time for me not to overeat. And thanks to Margaret Bullitt-Jonas’s Holy Hunger (Vintage Books, 1998), I don’t think “long time”  anymore but a day at a time. Sometimes even a few minutes at a time, until I can get up and walk around, leave the kitchen, brush my teeth, go to bed, whatever I need to do until the destructive impulse to eat fades.

Bullitt-Jonas found healing in Overeaters Anonymous, the church and the writings of psychologist Alice Miller. “Miller showed me that the true self is a potentiality within each child that only comes into existence as the child is noticed, understood, and taken seriously by its parents.”

Paraphrasing Miller, Bullitt-Jonas gives a pitch-perfect rendition of my childhood: “If…a child feels that she must earn her parents’ love by behaving a certain way or by expressing only certain needs and feelings — if…she must construct a ‘false self’ in order to be accepted and to survive — then, however successful and accomplished she may grow up to appear, inwardly she will be fragile, anxious, depressed.” And probably expressing those feelings within the framework of an eating disorder. Wow, it’s like Miller and Bullitt-Jonas grew up in my house.

So what to do to put the ice storm behind me, besides trying to figure out how my parents were themselves damaged? Reading about Bullitt-Jonas’s enlightenment in OA seems to have made brain tumblers click into place and unlock a subconscious vault:

“In the lexicon of OA, the verb ‘to eat,’ when it stands alone without a direct object, is shorthand for ‘compulsive overeating.’ To refuse ‘to eat’ means to refuse the first compulsive bite, to refuse to binge.  If I wanted to have a life, if I wanted to find out who I was and why I was here on this earth, if I wanted to learn how to love and how to let love in, if I wanted to be happy and at peace with myself, if I wanted my existence to have any sense of meaning or purpose, if I wanted nothing more noble or ambitious than simply to stop being so miserable and so filled with self-hatred — if I wanted any of these things, I’d have to stop eating compulsively. I’d have to put the food down. It was as stark, as simple, and as scary as that.” Yeah, baby. What she said.

This is why “Biggest Loser” contestants are always crying and why their biggest job lies ahead of them when they leave “the ranch” and go home. Home is where the heat is (not necessarily heart). Surgical weight loss and “diet” drugs must be like slamming into menopause overnight, leaving you to deal with (or not) all this stuff in a scalpel snip or swallow.

Years ago, I found myself envying a newsroom co-worker whose dad the alcoholic butcher used to knock the kids around but when sober, told them he loved them. “We always knew we were loved,” he said. I would have given everything for that as a child.

Maybe I need to stop kicking myself for taking 66 years to manage my mouth. Maybe I need to say, it’s OK, it took this long to navigate the twists and turns of my family tree (has to be a curly willow, doesn’t it?). To realize, in Bullitt-Jonas’s words: “There’s no way in hell you’ll find out who you are, what you’re doing, if you’re eating compulsively. Every escape into food is a delay, a retreat, a decision to close down. So get with it. Work your program or die. Stay awake. Open your eyes, not your mouth.” Holy hunger, Batwoman!

Category:

Compulsive eating, Food addiction, Overeaters Anonymous, Seniors and weight loss, Weight loss, Why overweight?

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Baby onions, grown-up onions

May 2, 2012

Baby onions have stems no bigger than the stick on a Q-tip. The easiest way to slip them to their 1-inch recommended depth is to use a dibble planter with inches marked on it (like the one made for me by my friend Jerry Keys out of poplar wood). Poke a hole to 1 inch, plop in the onion and firm the earth around it. Just make sure that your onions can enjoy all-day sunbathing — I put a few in a shady nook  to see what would happen (and because I was out of onion room) and they haven’t grown a bit, just moped.

Baby onions waiting to go in ground. The established plants in each hill are garlic and leeks.

If your onions do something more productive than mope in the shade, someday you can enjoy this onion tart from the April 2011 issue of Cooking Light.  A rustic crust like this (no pan) is also called a galette. This one is heady with the earthy flavors of roasted onion, feta and Swiss cheese and fresh thyme. My thyme plants are also mopey (or deceased) so I used 2 teaspoons dried thyme instead of 2 tablespoons chopped fresh. The magazine suggested an arugula and walnut salad to accompany since neither of those ingredients will be overpowered by the  onions and cheese.

Onion tart

1 tablespoon olive oil

2-1/2 pounds onions, peeled, trimmed and thinly sliced

2 tablespoons chopped fresh thyme

3/4 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon black pepper

1/2 14.1-ounce package refrigerated pie dough (1 crust)

1/4 cup crumbled reduced-fat feta cheese

1/4 cup shredded reduced-fat Swiss cheese

1 large egg, lightly beaten with 2 tablespoons water

Heat oven to 425º. Heat oil in skillet over medium-high heat. Add onion, thyme, salt and pepper; cook 20 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Roll or stretch out dough on parchment paper-lined baking sheet. Sprinkle feta cheese in center, leaving 1-1/2-inch border; top with onion. Sprinkle with Swiss cheese. Fold piecrust border up and over onion mixture, pleating as you go, leaving a 6-inch-wide opening.

Combine egg and water; brush over dough. Bake at 425º for 25 minutes or until golden. Cool for 10 minutes. Makes 4 servings, 402 calories, 9 g fat each.

Onion galette with the last of our 2011 onion crop.

 

Category:

good food, healthy cooking, Local food, Rural life, Simple foods

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Set points, sloppy joes and settling points

April 25, 2012

I think I’m happy to have found this article by Joseph Hooper in the March issue of Elle magazine. It explains why I went at weight work this morning with a bang that’s left me still breathing hard 20 minutes afterward.

There’s no reason for this piece to be titled “Sexy and I Know It,” unless that hed is for a monthly column because the piece itself is about keeping weight off after you lose it and how very, very tough that is (only 2 to 20 percent of losers manage). Mostly, because our bodies themselves are fighting our good intentions. (I nominate myself for a place in what he calls the “one-woman hunger museum.”)

Science is pretty clear by now that anyone losing more than 10 percent of her/his body weight “experience(s) a corresponding change in crucial appetite-regulating hormones.” In other damn words, lose weight and feel hungrier.

And while I’m losing weight, science also says my metabolism is slowing down. Curses! As if it weren’t already comatose. So I can only be successful by doing as the author’s wife — paying “undying attention to what she eats and how much she exercises.”

The silver lining in this big, purple cloud is “outfoxing our uncooperative physiolog(ies) with exercise. ” Weight training and sprint work seem to help, but “The most important priority is to get regular exercise and plenty of it,” as much as one hour daily.

This is a really well-written and researched piece (why I keep lifting quotations). Hooper cites Dr.George Blackburn as recommending that we lose no more than 10 percent of our weight, slowly, then simply maintain that loss for six months “to let your body metabolically recalibrate.” Jury’s still out on whether our bodies actually do that, but I like the idea of just staying for a bit at this weight of 198, which is probably what the authors call my set point. My settling point, which they also use, is probably more like it. Eventually, I’d like to not settle and continue on my way to 174.

In the meantime, I’ll eat a diet heavy in vegetables and fruit, curtail sugar (maybe even dairy and gluten when I can without being a diet diva), and exercise, exercise, exercise. Oh, and get plenty of sleep. Hoping someday to, paraphrasing Hooper, embrace healthier new habits as real pleasures.

I know you can use protein crumbles in your same old, same old sloppy joe recipe, but I’m not supposed to eat soy (too much estrogen) so I  really enjoyed this variation from the April issue of Parenting magazine. My best guess is about 400 calories per sandwich with an onion hamburger bun, 1 ounce of grated cheddar and 1/2 cup of the sloppy joe mixture.

Black bean and salsa sloppy joes

I used a corn and black bean salsa which ups the protein content ever so slightly.

2 teaspoons olive oil

3 minced garlic cloves

2-1/2 cups rinsed, drained canned black beans

1 15-ounce jar mild chunky salsa

1 tablespoon brown sugar

1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce

1 teaspoon Dijon-type mustard

1/2 teaspoon ground cumin

1/4 teaspoon salt

Cheddar cheese, shredded

In large skillet, heat oil and add garlic, sauteing until golden (don’t leave — it chars in the blink of an eye). Stir in beans, salsa, brown sugar, Worcestershire, mustard, cumin and salt. Bring to simmer and cook for 10 minutes. Spoon onto buns and top with cheese. Stuffs 4 sandwiches.

Category:

healthy cooking, good food, vegetables, Why overweight?, Simple foods, Maintaining weight loss, Sandwiches

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Five guys, anniversary and pickled eggs

April 23, 2012

I have a long-time friend who’s said since she met His Royal Plaidshirtness (HRP) that he’s one of only 5 good guys in the galaxy and that if I ever leave him, she will personally take me apart. I agree he’s one of the good guys, and I happily think back to 24 years ago at this moment  when oldest daughter Joanna and I were on our way to Divajade to get our hairs done for the 1 p.m. wedding whoopdedo up here in the pasture.

A good partnership at work: Lew, Dannye and their 3-year-old grandson, Townes. Baby eating Greek yogurt.

At the same time, or near’bouts, daughter Alexandra was headed for a shower in HRP’s grandparents’ pink shingled house where she spent the night and discovered just how many praying mantis nymphs hatch from one egg case (up to 400, evidently). 

I don’t agree with the 5 good guys part, though. Projecting myself back into yesterday’s choir loft I see many more than 5 men who are grownups, who are funny, sexy, committed to their relationships and hard at work at something, be it a job, a father-daughter dance, babysitting for grandchildren or cheering a daughter-in-law’s flute solo.

HRP is the right guy for me who will always (damn his eyes!) call me on my delusional thinking, but there are plenty of others “out there,” including the loving, longtime husband of my friend Dannye, who hosted a real ladies’ lunch for us old newsroom gals last week. I know for sure Lew made the good coffee, and I’m guessing he helped with a few other things as well. The house and yard and table were completely Southern Living-perfect, and Dannye taught us how to make good deviled eggs without mayonnaise (hummus, yellow French’s mustard and a few drops of Tabasco).

All of us ate the pickled beets, but I alone braved the pickled eggs. I’m a Pennsylvania Dutch girl, and pickled eggs are just a colorful part of that. I’ve eaten some from a sketchy-looking gallon jar on a bar, but mostly I’ve made my own by peeling hard-boiled eggs and letting them take it easy for a few days in a non-reactive container (glass or stainless steel) of pickling beets. 

I use the easy-breezy-lemon-squeezy pickled beets directions from the always reliable 1987 Fearrington House Cookbook: A Celebration of Food, Flowers and Herbs (Jenny Fitch, Ventana Press, Inc.). The older my taste buds become, the more I find I enjoy a small, piquant taste of pickle with many meals.

Pickled beets (and eggs)

A fuzzy picture of chicken salad, grape tomatoes, chips, a deviled egg, pickled beets and a very colorful pickled egg. You can see how the pickling liquid works through the white.

1-1/2 pounds fresh beets, cooked, trimmed, peeled and cut into wedges

1/2 cup water

1/2 cup cider vinegar

1/2 cup sugar

2 whole cloves

1/2 teaspoon pickling spices, tied with cook’s twine in cheesecloth

Combine water, vinegar, sugar and cloves and bring to boil. Add pickling spice packet and stir until sugar dissolves. Pour over beets. Add hard-boiled eggs for a little taste adventure and cover the container. Let sit, refrigerated for 2 or 3 days (stirring gently every now and then), but serve pickles at room temperature.

 

Category:

Beets, eggs, healthy cooking, Marriage, Pickles, Spices

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We are feminists (who like to eat and, sometimes, cook)

April 14, 2012

The tiresome women who insist that feminists oppose love and marriage make me tired. The young women who insist that they’re not feminists make me tired.

Miriam in her studio

In my mind — and it’s been this way since the scales fell from my consciousness in the mid-1970s — real feminists want women and men to have the widest possible range of choices. Children, no children, house-husband, house-wife — as far as I’m concerned all fit within the rubric of feminism (whatever that might be) as long as people engage productively in their world.

Some of the most interesting women I’ve known have been stay-at-home moms. Conversely, some of the most boring, self-involved people (male and female) I’ve met have supposedly great careers. And so it goes.

I don’t know Ann Romney, but I have a Mormon friend without pots of money who works hard every day at home to make her children good citizens of the world. She makes the best bread I’ve ever eaten, taught me to like kale (in a sausage chowder), met her husband when they were both in the Army and jumped out of a plane for the first time when she was pregnant with her oldest. Now that’s a woman, hear her roar!

Just before Easter three of my former newsroom buddies and I met for wine and laughter in Miriam’s painting studio (you can see some of her lovely work behind her or get a better look at Miriamdurkin.com).

Among the 4 of us we’ve had 7 marriages, 9 children and, so far, 9 grandchildren (Three of us had very young marriages in the beliefs that if we didn’t marry right then! we’d never have another chance and that an unmarried woman was a non-person.) We’ve written poetry, written about books, movies, pop music, dance; NASCAR; we’ve edited same. We’ve walked dogs, baked cookies (or not), diapered babies and traveled for fun and for work when those babies were sick (or not).

In 34 years we have never had nothing to discuss!

Then, of course, we went out for supper at The Pewter Rose, a favorite bistro now owned and run by the wife of one of our former newsroom photographers. And what does it tell you that we ALL ordered the same special — a whiskey- and honey-glazed salmon fillet over baby greens with lemon-basil vinaigrette,  goat cheese and candied walnuts ?

My somewhat warm and fuzzy point is, I think!, we need to drop the labels and do what it takes to wake up in the mornings drug-free and looking forward to the day, open to the unexpected and to change. And help others do the same. And strew this life path with good food that somebody has cooked. Like this 384-calorie per serving Cajun shrimp, spinach and grits from the May issue of Woman’s Day magazine.

Shrimp and grits has (have?) become a cliche on Southern menus, but this version is so colorful and healthy that it breathes new life into that fixture. And, p.s., my husband fixed the grits. Perfectly. For more nutritional pop serve with blood orange slices and broiled Roma tomato halves, topped with olive oil, salt, pepper, thyme and a wee bit of brown sugar.

Cajun shrimp, spinach and grits

1 cup quick-cooking grits

2 tablespoons olive oil

1-1/2 pounds large peeled and deveined shrimp

2 teaspoons Cajun or blackening seasoning (low- or no-salt)

1/2 teaspoon salt, divided, and pepper to taste

2 tablespoons fresh lime juice

2 cloves garlic, thinly sliced

1 cup frozen corn, thawed, or canned whole-kernel corn, rinsed and drained

1 bunch spinach, thick stems discarded

Cook grits according to package directions (thank you, el Patron, as his Salvadoran milkhands used to call him). Meanwhile, heat 1 tablespoon oil in large skillet over medium-high heat. Season shrimp with Cajun seasoning and 1/4 teaspoon salt and cook for 2 minutes. Turn and cook until pink opaque throughout, 1 to 2 minutes more. Remove skillet from heat, add lime juice and toss to coat. Transfer to plate and wipe out skillet with paper towel.

Heat remaining 1 tablespoon oil over medium heat. Add garlic and cook, stirring, until golden, 1 to 2 minutes. Add corn and heat through. Add spinach and 1/4 teaspoon each salt and pepper and cook, tossing, for 1 minute. Return shrimp to skillet and toss to combine. If spinach has not wilted, turn off heat and put lid on skillet until it does. Serve over grits, or gree-yuts as it’s pronounced in these parts.

I mistakenly (!) added 2 tablespoons of the Cajun seasoning, and it was not too much. Maybe my seasoning is old and faded, maybe it’s my tastebuds or maybe this dish just needs that “Bam!”

Granddaughter Ashley embodies the joy possible in any good -ism.

Category:

Feminism, healthy cooking, Salad, Shellfish, Simple foods, vegetables

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Neuroses, chocolate bunnies and tuna casserole

April 1, 2012

I will never be able to eat everything I want to eat. I will never be able to eat enough to make me “happy” (read: numb). I will never be able to eat enough to make me feel loved, appreciated, beautiful, fill in the blank (and this I mean literally — the hollow that is within me is like that of a chocolate bunny).

OK, having realized that, can I now move on with my life? Please? Millions of privileged, normal-weight people do that daily, hourly even. Look at a cupcake, the rest of the tortilla chips, whatever, and hear an internal voice that says, simply, “No, I can’t.” And that’s the end of it. There’s no tussle back and forth between the lean conscience and the chubby devils on the shoulders. Just: I can’t.

No problem for me with alcohol, drugs and cigarettes. Just the peanuts in the pantry, the ice cream in the freezer.

Years ago as a struggling single mother of two, I remember rushing home from work to a beer or two while I fixed supper. Then the moment that I realized how much I was looking forward to that beer or two and that I couldn’t drink alone and lonely. That was the end of it. Now, I’d like my Easter miracle, please, to be that this is my end of over-eating to make myself “feel better.” I do believe in fairies, I do, I do, or anything else that will help me take this huge step.

Except that nothing can help me. Only I can take it. Again and again. And again. The bunny never feels full, only complete or devoured. I’m aiming at my version of complete, which is the best I can be. Happy Palm Sunday.

And in a lurching segue (oxymoron alert!), this is the best tuna casserole I’ve ever tasted. The recipe says it makes 4 servings, but they are huge. Can easily be 6 or 8 with a huge serving of spring greens beside. And a blood orange is the perfect capper to make you forget you might “need” a cookie or two.  Use reduced-fat sour cream, mayonnaise and milk, and it still has a decadent mouth feel.

Tuna noodle supreme from Ellen Proctor of Great Barrington, MA, on allrecipes.com several years ago:

1-1/2 cups sour cream

1/2 cup mayonnaise

1/2 cup milk

1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese

1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon pepper

4 cups cooked small pasta shells (I hate it when a recipe doesn’t give you the amount of UN-cooked pasta — I used 3 cups uncooked, and it made a little more than 4 cups of cooked small shells.)

2 cups broccoli florets

1 12-ounce can tuna, drained and flaked

1/2 cup chopped sweet red pepper

1/2 cup sliced green onions

Heat oven to 350º. In large bowl, combine sour cream, mayonnaise, milk, cheese, mustard, salt and pepper. Stir in cooked pasta, broccoli, tuna, red pepper and onions. Transfer to oil-sprayed 2-quart baking dish. Cover and bake for 40 to 45 minutes until hot and bubbly. If you like a little crunch around the edges of your pasta, finish with 5 minutes of uncovered baking time. Note: For either fresh or frozen broccoli florets, throw into pasta cooking water for last minute or two of pasta cooking time. Drain pasta and broccoli together and continue with recipe.

 

Category:

Casseroles, Chocolate, Fish, Food addiction, good food, healthy cooking, Self control, Stress eating, Weight loss, Why overweight?, Willpower

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Ye old spice shoppe, secret chocolate cake

March 28, 2012


The smells of seven continents make The Spice Shop a spa for the senses. OK, maybe not Antarctica -- six continents!

OMGsh, as our friend Marilyn writes so no one thinks she’s cussing. Waiting for supper last week with two other friends, I wandered into the Savory Spice Shop in Birkdale Village, just north of Charlotte. I’d been looking for vanilla beans that cost less than a sports car, and there they were, just inside the front door and at four different prices.

I nearly went berserk. I managed to control myself somewhat — skipping the lavender vanilla sugar but buying three vanilla beans, crushed red pepper flakes, a medium-hot chili powder and eight ounces of Black Onyx Cocoa Powder.

This cocoa looks more like coal dust than Hershey’s, and you use it for only one-quarter to one-half of the cocoa called for in a recipe. I just used it in my mother’s “Secret Cake” recipe and, I promise, the icing has aftertones of a dark and exotic jungle. I’m just sorry I put most of it on the cake!

To make the cake heat your oven to 400.° In a large saucepan melt together 1 stick butter, 1/4 cup vegetable shortening, 1 cup water and 3-

No one knows what the secret of the Secret Cake might be, unless it's that any one of us could eat it in a single and very large bite!

1/2 tablespoons cocoa (I used 1 tb. of the Black Onyx and 2-1/2 tb. Hershey’s). In bowl mix together 2 cups granulated sugar and 2 cups flour. Pour over the chocolate mixture and stir gently. In bowl beat together 1/2 cup buttermilk, 2 eggs, 1 teaspoon baking soda, 1/2 teaspoon salt and 1 teaspoon vanilla. Add to flour mixture and beat by hand, just until well-mixed. Pour into greased and floured 11-x16-x2-inch pan and bake for 20 to 25 minutes or until cake tester comes out clean.

During the last few minutes of baking, boil in the saucepan (which you’ve washed) 1 stick butter, 3-1/2 tablespoons cocoa and 1/3 cup buttermilk. Remove from heat. Add 3 cups confectioner’s sugar and 1 cup chopped walnuts. Spread on warm cake. Cool cake (in pan) completely on rack.

I don’t know how many servings it’s supposed to be. I think I’ll make two!

The combination of the two types of cocoa gives a rich chocolate taste.

Category:

Cake, Chocolate, Desserts, Spices

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Spring is not for sissies, strawberry crisp

March 21, 2012

Somehow we associate baby pastels with springtime, yet when I look outside, I see primary colors: The sky, of course, is Carolina (ick, go NC State!) blue and the baby maple leaves, red before they’re green. The intense yellow of the wild mustard and forage turnips, blanketing Iredell pastures as well as the meadowlark breasts turned to the sun as they pinwheel out of the emerald small grains.

Red, red, red is the color of these beautiful berries.

Local strawberries will be here momentarily. In the meantime, someone gave me four pints of foreign ones that actually smelled like ripe berries! I made this simple, wonderful recipe from thebuddingcook.com and, again, wondered why anyone uses red food coloring. You can see how vivid these berries are, and they tasted as good as they look.

Simple strawberry crisp

Fruit: 1 quart strawberry quarters (I hulled and trimmed 2 quarts to get this amount)

1/4 cup sugar

Juice of one lemon

3 tablespoons cornstarch

Pinch of salt

Topping: 2/3 cup all-purpose flour (King Arthur, of course, is there any other?)

1/2 cup packed brown sugar

1/2 cup quick (not instant) oats

1/2 cup chopped walnuts

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

5 tablespoons melted butter

Pinch of salt

Heat oven to 375°. Mix berries, sugar, lemon, cornstarch and first pinch of salt. Put berry mixture in buttered 8-x-8-inch baking dish.

In bowl you used for mixing fruit, stir together topping ingredients (flour, sugar, oats, walnuts, cinnamon, butter and salt). Spoon over fruit. Bake for 35 to 40 minutes or until crumbs begin to brown and fruit bubbles through topping. Serves 4 to 5 and is ab-fab, served warm and crowned with a scoop of frozen vanilla yogurt.

The young beloved missed the crisp, insisting that they needed to return to school and finish the semester!

Category:

Rural life, Seasonal food, Simple foods, Desserts, Fruit, Spring

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Seduced and abandoned

March 15, 2012

Spring, that brazen hussy, sashayed through the open windows yesterday without a care that soon we’ll be ravaged by summer’s awful heat. Every year I forget. Every year I throw open those windows and smell the turned earth, the pear blossoms and the cows. Every year I hear the meadowlarks and the peepers and think, “This year she’ll stay like until fall.”

Matt sheds his winter coat.

With spring’s arrival, the horses let go of their shaggy winter coats. Boom! Just like that, I can pull/brush out enough handfuls of hair from my 34-year-old buckskin Matt Dillon to leave the ground looking as though many furry bunnies have had a violent set-to (the Dead Rabbits perhaps?). The nesting birds will be so happy — horse hair is to to birds what Tyvek insulation is to human builders.

Along with the bluebirds, the beloved college students arrive on spring break. We like the students much more than the bluebirds which tend to develop obsessions with particular mirrors, windows and blue cars and leave behind really messy mementoes of their passion. When the students leave, it’s not messy, but dimmer as though someone put lower wattage bulbs in all the lights.

Red-haired daughter and horses, green grass, blue sky.

We’ve eaten, walked, eaten, watched movies and eaten. Their first night here we ate this Woman’s Day magazine frittata made with baby “bellas,” ricotta and the last of our 2011 leeks.

Leek, mushroom and ricotta cheese frittata

2 tablespoons olive oil

2 leeks, slivered, washed and drained

Salt and pepper

8 ounces mushrooms, sliced

8 large eggs

1/2 cup part-skim ricotta cheese

1/4 cup grated Parmesan (12 ounce)

Heat oven to 400º. Heat oil in large, oven-safe skillet. Add leeks and 1/2 teaspoon each salt and pepper and cook, stirring occasionally, for 5 minutes. Add mushrooms and cook, tossing occasionally, until they’ve released their liquid and turned golden brown and tender, 4 to 5 minutes.

Meanwhile, in bowl whisk together eggs, ricotta and Parmesan. Add egg mixture to skillet and stir to mix. Transfer to pre-heated oven and bake until knife inserted in center comes out clean, 16 to 18 minutes. Serve with salad and crusty, whole-grain bread. One-fourth of the frittata has 307 calories and 20 grams fat.

Clean skillet by adding a little water, heating and scraping up leftover bits. Dump water and wash as usual.

Category:

Breakfast-brunch, Family, good food, healthy cooking

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